


First Impressions

by PinkRangerV



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, First Meeting, Fluff, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkRangerV/pseuds/PinkRangerV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drogo didn't take Daenerys as wife because of the magister or because of Viserys--it was because he wanted her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> This is roughly what I imagine happened when Drogo and Daenerys met. I know Drogo's a khal, and most of them have very little respect for women--or anyone--but in the books at least, it's clear Drogo cares very much about Daenerys' consent, and loves her. So why would he? Because she kicks ass. And thus was this born.

So this was the princess.

 

They said she was born in a storm, and heir to dragons. Drogo had expected the princess from across the poison-water to be exotic, powerful; her brother had never come to the negotiations, but the magister had extolled her royal lineage, this daughter of khals.

 

She was the tiniest woman Drogo had ever seen.

 

It did not mean she was not powerful, Drogo knew that, but she was less a khaleesi and more a child. Drogo was contemplating how to let her down easily, to tell her that she was beautiful but belonged in the Bravoosi cities, to go elsewhere to find a wild woman more suited to him.

 

But then he looked again.

 

She had eyes that shone with unshed tears, and the beginnings of a bruise on her arm, and yet she held her chin high and back straight. She smiled not with joy, but with defiance.

 

“A prize, as I told you, Khal.” The magister offered.

 

Drogo contemplated the child, then offered a hand. “Invite her to speak with me.” Drogo ordered the interpreter.

 

“The princess will be honored to join you.” The interpreter replied.

 

Steered away from her brother and the magister, the girl seemed to take new strength. “The princess asks if you enjoy the feast, Khal.” The interpreter offered.

 

Drogo chuckled. “Tell her it was dull until her arrival. And ask, too, how she likes riding.” Across the poison water, they did not ride often.

 

“She says she admires a good rider.” The translator offered. “Though she does not claim any prowess, especially compared to a Dothraki.”

 

That was well. “I have also been told she sings, and does sums, and can manage a Bravoosi household.” Drogo commented.

 

The girl—Daenerys--replied more easily, slipping her arm around his in the fashion of those from her homeland. “She says she is taught as any daughter of khals would be, but understands that you prefer a woman who can ride and hunt alongside you.”

 

Interesting. Was she trying to turn him down? “I prefer a woman who is willing.”

 

Daenerys considered that, then said something quietly. “She says that she prefers a man who believes so.”

 

There was no one, male or female, who would dare speak to Khal Drogo that way, save this tiny girl.

 

“Then it is good,” Drogo said, “That the magister has introduced us.”

 

The sentences went through the interpreter, but the smile needed no translation. “Indeed it is, Khal Drogo.”


End file.
